Reasons and Fears
by h4lfpr1nce
Summary: Dave Karofsky hates himself for not being as strong as Kurt. Inspired by and taking place during junior prom, so Klaine exists.


**I haven't posted anything in so long I'm sure whoever actually cares hates me. I'll finish things eventually when I feel motivated on those particular stories. Otherwise you'll just get crap and I won't do that to you.**

Enjoy, R&R :)

It wasn't hard to hate yourself, not when there were so many reasons.

They stared him in the face every time he looked in the mirror. He saw them whenever he caught himself looking somewhere he knew he shouldn't be, or whenever he regarded his supposed girlfriend with nothing but friendship, if that. Most of the time it was less; mere gratefulness or even indifference. They were there every time he felt her touch on his skin. It felt _wrong, _even when he would have given anything for it to feel right.

But most of all he felt them whenever he looked at the face of Kurt Hummel.

Every time he looked there he saw some kind of hurt; one that he had caused. How many times could you hurt one person you desperately wanted to be friends with and still think yourself worthy of his friendship? Not that he had ever thought himself worthy of Kurt.

Tonight might have been the worst betrayal yet, he thought, and might have broken any connection they might have been building. He say those determined eyes, changing from hope to sadness in seconds, swimming in front of his own though Kurt was nowhere near. He'd really fucked up this time. Not only on the friendship front, but also on the protection. He didn't realistically expect Santana to continue with this farce of a relationship after prom, though maybe if they had both won… no, there's no point in thinking of what-ifs. Santana wouldn't keep up the relationship, now, or the protection, since it was all a ploy to win queen, anyway. And if she no longer needed him…

He expected the school's papers tomorrow to tell everyone his deepest, darkest secret. He, David Karofsky, athlete and reformed bully, was gay. He had no way to offer Kurt protection anymore; no way to make up for what he had done. Even if she didn't publish the story, he wouldn't be able to be there anymore. No one would trust protection offered by someone who refused to even dance with the person he was attempting to protect. They would all think he'd only been doing it for popularity, like Santana had, and would go back to harassing Kurt. The thought made him sick.

And so did the way he's just run out like that. He sat down and rested his head against the wall of the deserted weight room, the only place he felt safe anymore. The s leaked out with the thoughts and the regret.

He remembered middle school, a time when he had lived safe in the anonymity of being slightly but not overly popular. He remembered looking at Kurt and sensing that something inside Kurt was different. It was something that many of his classmates had felt the need to persecute, but just made him feel vaguely sorry for the boy. Not sorry enough to do anything and jeopardize his position. He was safe and comfortable in himself. He felt like he knew who he was and who he would be later in life. No one else's burden seemed worth giving it up. He was confident, if only in the fact that it would never be him in that position by any fault of his own.

Then, in high school, Kurt's treatment had gotten worse. So had the pressure on him. He now had to reluctantly participate in throwing Kurt into the dumpster, if only by holding one of the other guys' book bag. He now had to be included in the superior glare Kurt cast at his bullies. It bothered him more than it should; more than it ever seemed to affect the other guys. He didn't know what it was.

But then Kurt joined the glee clubs, and then football and then _cheerleading_, of all things_._ At the same time as he officially came out. It seemed like he was determined to prove that he could be whatever the hell he wanted to be, and it seemed as though he could. The bullies didn't think so. Kurt faced more and more hate. He himself had been forced to call Kurt's dad, his fucking _dad_, at work and tell him that his son was a fag. As if he didn't already know Kurt was gay. As if he would love him less because of it. As if it didn't hurt him to hear his son called horrible names.

Karofsky always maintained a belief, somewhere inside, that he would have stepped in if it had gone too far. Maybe when blood was drawn or bones were in danger of being broken. But he was sure he would have stopped it. He never seemed to need to, though. Kurt was always, always confident, even with what sometimes seemed like half the school after him. He always had a smile for his friends and a swing in his step, though sometimes that just irked the bullies more, Karofsky saw as he watched Kurt. He was jealous of that confidence. Or was it just jealousy? There seemed to be another feeling there…

He nearly broke down when he noticed what the feeling was.

He caught himself watching the curve of Kurt's hips appreciatively as the boy bent down to retrieve a paper knocked from his hand and stopped dead, stiffening. It had just occurred to him that looking at Kurt like that was the same as checking out a girl. He… he liked… Oh God he couldn't even say it in his _mind_.

It was everything he didn't want. He didn't want the barbs every day or being thrown into dumpsters. He couldn't handle it the way Kurt did. He'd break under the pressure. He wouldn't be able to handle the disappointed looks from his father or the malicious ones from the team. He considered them his friends, his brothers. He was certain that he couldn't handle it. And then Kurt's confidence had seemed like a much more personal offence, knowing that he couldn't have it.

At the same time as he was resenting Kurt for being so much stronger than he was, as he wanted that confidence, he wanted Kurt himself. And that terrified the shit out of him. He couldn't handle it, and the feeling kept growing into an obsession. He was sure to act as mean as possible. He slammed Kurt into lockers and tipped slushies on his head, dreading that someone would notice the way his eyes sometimes lingered on his victim or the way he cringed as he heard flesh meet metal. No one did.

He felt as though he was walking on a wire. He didn't know it was possible to want something and to detest the very idea of it at the same time. One side had to give, and if either did he would fall. But he couldn't stay there for any longer. The point finally came when Kurt followed him into the locker room.

God, he'd just looked so beautiful yelling like that. Dave had wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Hazed as it was with lust and trepidation, his mind had only seen two possible ways a kiss could go. Either Kurt would melt into his arms and everything would suddenly be _ok_ because they were _together_, or he would realize that he didn't actually like kissing Kurt and everything would go back to normal. So he kissed him. It was warm and wonderful and everything he'd wanted.

Until Kurt pulled away with that scandalized expression. He'd wanted to lean in again kiss if off Kurt's face, but before he could the object of his affection ran out of the room with his hand over his mouth. Then he'd felt even more terrified than before because he didn't have Kurt nor any way to escape what he was and what he was feeling and _someone knew_.

Someone fucking _knew_.

Apparently he didn't have any dignity, either, he'd thought as he whispered death threats and administered pain in the hallways. He was just so angry at Kurt for not accepting him, though he knew Kurt had every right to hate him and he had no claim on any part of Kurt. He hated himself for leaving himself open and for doing this to the person he liked, but he was scared and he had worried more about himself than Kurt, not that that made any sense to him now. But then again, neither did running away and yet he had.

Kurt's little boyfriend knowing had brought another wave of fear and also flooded him with irrational jealousy. He just couldn't accept that Kurt had denied him and then taken up with that… hobbit. It wasn't fair, he'd thought, even though somewhere in him knew it was.

Then Kurt had left, and he felt worse than he ever had before. He hadn't seen, in his fear, how much he's singlehandedly destroyed Kurt's confidence and spark. He hadn't wanted to see it. And even as he sat in the office, Kurt denying that the kiss, _protecting _him, so it seemed, even as he tried to get him expelled, he still couldn't bring himself to stop denying the death threat and the kiss and the bullying and the feelings and _himself_. He was denying himself.

After Kurt hadn't returned the next day he'd been devastated. How could he have destroyed everything while trying to protect himself? He found himself the object of hatred, though for different reasons than he had ever feared, and what would have caused more hatred hadn't disappeared either. It wasn't just Kurt. He simply _liked boys_, and there wasn't anything he could do about it but hide it and wait for an unfortunately observant person to ruin him. When he next saw Kurt, going to the benefit and towing his boyfriend along with him, he'd felt such a mix of emotion that he was hard-pressed to feel them all, much less categorize them. He never had been very good with feelings.

He felt a little contraction of his heart when he saw Kurt smile, saddened by the fact that he'd never seen him smile like that and jealous that his boyfriend had made him, though strangely not as jealous as before. He felt so fucking _guilty_ when that smile dropped off Kurt's face as soon as he saw him. And he was angry at Kurt for leaving him but more angry at himself for forcing him away and not being able to avoid speaking to him maliciously and saying things he didn't mean because every time he saw Kurt he felt so weak and scared and was it only his bullying that had kept Kurt from kissing him back that time, because he'd been thinking about it a lot, or was it something else wrong with him?

And so he'd broken again.

When Santana came to him saying that she _knew_ and threatened him with it, he'd felt even more afraid than ever before. But when she revealed he plan he felt a little bit of hope that he could redeem himself in Kurt's eyes and be forgiven for being a complete asshole, even though he knew for a fact that he didn't deserve it at all. Maybe if he brought him back and protected him…

And the best part was that he didn't have to face his sexuality. He'd be with Santana.

Of course as soon as he'd seen Kurt he'd had to resist the urge to yell at him and call him names and hurt him because that's what he'd been doing for so long that the violence he'd never wanted to be a part of was ingrained in him. However, he'd seen that the confidence Kurt prided himself on had finally returned and he'd really felt he couldn't stand to hurt him any longer. He easily crumbled to whatever Kurt wanted.

After Kurt had returned they'd fell into an odd acquaintanceship. He didn't feel like he'd done nearly enough to have one iota of Kurt's friend ship or trust, and that he was even there was just so wonderful that he honestly didn't know what to think anymore. At the same time he still saw fear in the back of Kurt's eyes whenever they met his and he just desperately wanted that to disappear. He'd cried as he apologized in the middle of the hallway for it, because someone as brave as Kurt shouldn't have to be afraid of insignificant things like him.

Protecting him at prom, with his boyfriend there, was supposed to go a long way. He'd thought it was going to for most of the night. When he'd seen Kurt with his boyfriend, for the first time he'd felt no jealousy at the sight of them. He was only happy that Kurt was so happy, and appreciative of his boldness with the kilt even as he quivered slightly in fear because Kurt would stand out _so much_. Then nothing had happened for the rest of the night and what Kurt had said about people being indifferent now might have been true. Then he'd been voted prom king and he'd felt good that even though he'd been _nice_ to Kurt apparently the school still liked him. He felt a wave of confidence that he hoped was how Kurt usually felt because it was fucking _amazing_. That had lasted about three seconds until the prom queen had been chosen, and it all disappeared as Kurt ran out crying. Exactly how many times would he have to break, and in how many different ways?

Kurt finally came back in and, though Dave could see him shaking, he accepted his crown with wit and grace. It felt like he'd turned it into a good thing, somehow. Then it was time for the king and queen to dance and he'd almost felt like he could do it, for Kurt, but then Kurt had said something about him coming out and it suddenly hit him what it would _mean_. So he ran.

He broke yet again as he saw Kurt's betrayed face as he turned, and realized for the first time exactly how much will Kurt must use to get through every day. He couldn't face the crowd of people around them even for a second while Kurt did every single day. The betrayal was worse this time, he knew, because there had been something there before it. The fall was harder. He hated himself even more than usual as he ran to curl up on the only place he felt safe. The deserted weight room. He knew this time he'd surely lost Kurt forever.

That was where he was waiting as he heard two male voices nearing the door. He immediately thought about hiding because, after all, he was crying. He couldn't face anyone right now. Then he recognized the voices and just stayed there, head against the wall, because he suddenly didn't have the energy to move.

"I still think he would have gone home," one voice suggested, the one less familiar to Dave.

"No, I don't think so. He goes here, after hours when he thinks no one else will be in the school. He _likes _it. You saw him, remember?" the other, higher voice inquired.

"Yes, but-"

"It won't hurt to check."

The door to the weight room opened and revealed Kurt and his boyfriend, Blaine, surrounded by a halo of light. They were holding hands, but Kurt let go as he moved swiftly into the room and knelt down beside Dave, holding out his arms.

"What are you-" he said, but was cut off as Kurt's arms wrapped around him protectively. He suddenly felt calm and warm and _wanted_ as Kurt spoke softly into his ear.

"It's ok. I shouldn't have pushed you. You don't have to do anything you don't want to yet. I know it's scary."

But it's not ok, he wanted to tell Kurt. He didn't want to ever have to see that expression of betrayal, of being left utterly alone, on Kurt's face ever again. As the arms pulled away, he felt emptier inside. He'd lost the warmth, but also the conflicting emotions. He suddenly knew what he wanted.

He wanted those arms open for him whenever he needed them. He wanted Kurt to smile and laugh around him. He wanted them to work together to deal with problems and become closer for them. And he wanted that in whatever way he could get it, he thought looking at Blaine, who was smiling kindly down on the scene. And he suddenly felt like he knew how to get what he wanted, though he was sure he it would give him many things he didn't want, many things that in the past he's desperately tried to avoid, and he might regret it. But he still stood up and walked to the door, saying, "Follow me."

He walked unsteadily towards the gym where the last few songs at the end of the dance were being sung, and willed himself not to turn around and run. Not again. He marched into the room with much more confidence than he felt and went up towards the stage with Kurt and Blaine trailing behind. When he reached it he got up on stage and took the microphone from Tina, who was for some reason bawling more than singing. Everyone fell silent as he cleared his throat. They all turned to look at him and he felt the pricks of their eyes stabbing him like knives and digging for his secrets. Well, he was going to give them one. He cleared his throat again, for somehow it was suddenly very dry and incapable of speaking. He swallowed and gathered his courage.

"I'm…" he began, and he almost lost the will to go on right then, "I'm… gay."

There was a breath of silence, and after that a surprised, happy gasp broke it and arms wrapped briefly around him. He knew who they belonged to and finally felt like he'd succeeded. Then Finn, Sam, Puck, and Mike were all patting him on the back and the glee girls were all hugging him. Rachel Berry offered that he talk to her dads if he had questions about anything. Even Blaine, Kurt's boyfriend, was hugging him, and…

He didn't know when it started. It was like suddenly there was noise _everywhere_. Then he realized that everyone was applauding. Not booing, applauding. And he almost burst into tears for the third time that week.


End file.
